


Face to Face

by ambivalentlangst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Brief mention of ocs for plot purposes but they aren't important, Cussing, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, Like, Lotor might show up but who knows because, Okay if a character hasn't shown up yet I'm woRKing on it, Prodigy Lance, Rated teen for like, basically Lance just knows everyone's secrets, but he ain't dark tho, don't get your jimmies too rustled about it, he's kind of a prodigy kind of not, idk her, if Justin was a spice he'd be flour, it's weird but he's getting paid so who cares, manipulative lance, planning out a plot??, the boy has his secrets just let him rest, this is up on my tumblr too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-18 13:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11875998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalentlangst/pseuds/ambivalentlangst
Summary: Lance is a people person. Always has been, and always will be. However, when he starts school it doesn't take long for people to realize he's more than that. A visit to the doctor later and Lance is found to be some sort of social genius. A boy who can practically read minds just by looking at someone's face. Freaky? Yes. Inconvenient? A little, but he makes it work. When Lance heads off to the Garrison under special government bribery, ahem, invitation, he really doesn't expect to be taking off to space. Especially not in a massive robot, who Lance can't even read like he's used to with people. It's a wild ride, and Lance's team may a bit unconventional, but he's determined to stay alive and keep his mess of a team together. Oh, and as a side note, Keith totally remembers him from the Garrison.





	1. Chapter 1

Lance had always liked people. Had always been an outgoing kid, running up to strangers with the biggest gap toothed smile he could possibly put on his face. It was how he’d met Hunk, on the playground in Kindergarten. Hunk was used to being pushed around for his size, but Lance had said a few words to the boys who’d pushed him down and as they ran off he offered a hand to the boy and dusted the wood chips off his back.

“I’m Lance, your new friend!” he announced, and that was that. Hunk had never had to deal with bullies again, even if Lance’s different plans to dig a hole to the center of the Earth got him dirtier than the wood chips. Despite the fact that Lance was only a child, it soon became obvious that Lance’s talent with people was more than just being a social butterfly. Lance had sat in a medical office, watching the crease between his doctor’s eyes and the way his eyes flickered to him with interest. He wondered if he’d spilled something on his shirt, because he could tell something about him fascinated the doctor, and he wanted to see more of him.

Lance’s right brain was discovered to be exceptionally advanced. In particular, his abilities with facial recognition. At the ripe age of six and likely quite a while before it was officially discovered, Lance had enough knowledge of the face to have abilities almost akin to being psychic. They couldn’t decide what to call him.

Genius, virtuoso, prodigy, were all used. The littlest things, a twitch of the lips or the way one looked could tell him eery amounts of information about whoever he observed. For example, Lance wasn’t quite sure what the whole ordeal was about, but as he saw his doctor hand the file to his receptionist an arch to her brow exposed that there was a secret there. He mentioned his speculations to his mother on the drive home and she nearly spat out her drink.

The doctor’s visit was far from his last. He was poked, prodded at, tested time and time again. Each time, he did not falter. People were easy. He fit in, cracked jokes while psychologists and professors scribbled down every word he said.

As Lance grew older, his knowledge of the world expanded. He’d always liked staring at the stars, and he latched onto that. Still, his appointments persisted and he soon realized he had anyone who’s face he could see in the palm of his hand. What he could tell about people became more accurate, in a very unsettling way. Then he started to use it to his advantage. The doctors had been convincing his parents for years to keep bringing him to appointments (free of charge, free of charge, they reassured them as they studied Lance like a lab rat) for his well being. Lance never told his parents how they cared for little more than the thesis that one intern was writing, or the possibilities of employing him in areas of the world like the justice system, or politics. Instead, he milked their interest endlessly. It was the least he could do, after spending years being their little project.

So, he convinced one to pay his family’s mortgage for the month, if he answered a specific line up of questions. Another for a few thousand dollars he put towards the hospital bill from the time his older brother broke his arm, in exchange for letting him do a special procedure he’d been working on. Lance was growing more and more sought after in the scientific world, despite that because he was a minor his identity had to be kept under wraps. Even in the face of his anonymity, the Garrison managed to track him down. The boy from Cuba who could stare at any face in the world and see what they were thinking, or at least a very good shot of it. The American government funded Lance’s education, and then some. Lance stopped indulging his doctors almost immediately, packing his bag and heading for the land of dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

The land of dreams his ass. Upon his arrival he was ushered into what was essentially a cell. When Commander Iverson came to brief him on his duties outside of class was when Lance first realized the military was a little different than doctors who, despite having extensive education, were rather idiotic.

“I want a dorm.” Lance announced. “Preferably with my friend Hunk. He’s a whiz at engineering, and I really think we’d get along great as partners. Did you know he-,” he began to chatter, running his mouth while Iverson stared.

“You’re special, McClain. You don’t room with the other students, since you have a higher purpose here than just to learn.” Lance’s eyes darkened, and he squared his shoulders, glaring up at Iverson.

“I do room with other students, or I’m not doing anything. My contract says I am to be treated like a regular student while occasionally missing classes to work with the military.” Iverson grinned, and Lance could see immediately that he thought he had a trump card.

“Regular students get a room. Not everybody gets roommates, kid. Start getting fussy about the contract, and you’re back home with no funding.” Lance’s blue eyes turned steely, looking at Iverson with venom.

“Yeah? How about this. Regardless of our contract, I want a room with two roommates. One of them being my friend Hunk. I have plenty of people I know who would love to fund me back home, and I’m sure they would be a lot more lenient about this sort of thing.” The scowl on Iverson’s face put a smirk up on Lance’s. An hour later he’d been moved into a lovely dorm room with Hunk and another boy named Justin.

Hunk was easy to get along with. He was used to Lance’s bubbly personality and incessant need to face the person he was talking to. Didn’t quite get it since Lance didn’t want him to know and had never explained, but obeyed his wishes regardless. He was used to Lance’s creepily accurate knowledge of whatever was going on in his head. Justin was fine too, but Lance was pretty sure Iverson took care to place him with someone who had the least personality possible. It wasn’t exactly that he disliked Justin, he didn’t! He was fine, nice and all, but he wasn’t all that interesting, and everyone interested Lance. It wasn’t ideal, but Justin ended up dropping out eventually. Again, Lance suspected Iverson. At least he had people to interact with. He was pretty sure he would’ve lost his mind in his single person room, nothing to do but actually get his homework done on time and sift through interrogation recordings that were his primary job with the military. Lie detectors could be fooled, Lance could not. Still, the work provided a nice distraction from the fact that school was proving to be much more difficult than originally anticipated.

The day he picked his fight with Iverson, Lance came to realize he had not picked a single battle with the man. He’d waged war. While with everyone else an easy smile and a few words got him whatever he wanted, he had to fight tooth and nail for it with the man. When after midterms fighter class was decided, Lance was well aware he should’ve gotten in easily. He knew the content, and what he didn’t know he’d studied night after night for. That’s why he was so furious as he showed up in Iverson’s office, his results in hand.

“Why am I not in fighter class?” he hissed, and Iverson responded with a knowing smirk that ignited Lance’s admittedly short fuse for the moment.

“McClain, you know the contract. Your first duty is to the military, where your automatic reward is to be reimbursed. Your education just happens to be part of that reimbursement. We’ve decided you would best serve your original purpose here as a cargo pilot, so that the extra task of fighter class doesn’t affect your work for the military.” Lance could see Iverson believed that to be the end of the matter, and squared his shoulders, mustering up his fight like he always had to here.

“I am to be treated like a normal student,” he growled. Iverson nodded patronizingly.  
“And you are. All students are enrolled in the cargo pilot curriculum, for at least base knowledge of piloting. It is extension credit to apply for fighter class. Besides, we’re full in the fighter class courses now. We can’t just kick someone who worked for it out because you’ve decided to throw a hissy fit.” Lance hated that Iverson hadn’t wavered in the slightest, that he was still looking just as smug as ever. He knew he had Lance, and the boy was doing his best to try and undermine him.

“I’ve worked for it too, you can’t just-” Iverson still sat at his desk, and had started picking through files after his first rebuttal. However, now he slammed the folders down on the desk, making a sound that made Lance jump. He hated he knew that Iverson knew he’d startled him, and the longer he stood in his office the more the commander was getting under his skin.

“We’re finished here, cadet. Go back to your dorm. I have class to teach tomorrow,” he barked, and Lance’s eyes were as rough as the sea in the anger that consumed him, storming out and completely ignoring his senior, Takashi Shirogane, standing outside and watching him with pity in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy how you doing. I actually had this done along with the first chapter when I posted it but I decided to hold off posting it for awhile until more people would be awake to see it, plus I had to change up a few things here and there. I've started working on the next chapter but it's giving me a difficult time so we'll see when that gets put up. The next few chapters should involve more actual plot, and we'll see Lance's abilities come into play more. In the beginning though, everything is very obvious so there's not a lot for him to comment on. Anyways, catch me on tumblr if you want, same name as this account. As a friendly reminder, kudos and comments are appreciated as motivation and helpful thing to let me know as an author that I'm on the right track. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And back with an update, here I am! Sorry this took a bit longer, I'm still working on a final plot outline, and school has started again so updates won't be as frequent. Thank you for reading, and I'll be back as soon as I can be with an update!

In the wake of his latest and greatest blow out with Iverson, Lance lashed out in his own way. While his personality and vivacious way of going about life had made him a bit of a class clown before, now he ramped it up. To cover up the blistering anger he felt every time he had to sit and listen to things he’d already studied to get himself into fighter class, he began to joke around, more than he probably should’ve. Flirt too, until he had half the school looking to get into his pants. While mostly he was harmless and his pick up lines were met with eye rolls and annoyance, it wasn’t difficult to legitimately charm somebody. He blew through the work Iverson had given him, not bothering with much depth anymore in his analysis. While he could’ve gone on forever about how the tilt of his head and the way his eyes stuck to the table a little too long meant the suspect had likely committed more crime than what the police knew and was a bit too unconcerned with being caught, instead he just scrawled little notes on the post its he stuck to the recordings.

‘Lying. Secure financially and in political circles. Investigate further.’

Then came the object of quite a bit of his frustrations. Keith Kogane. Lance had kept an eye on him throughout their time together, knowing very well that Keith was a threat. Well, not a threat, but someone to keep his eyes on. He was an incredibly skilled pilot, with a passion Lance could observe in practically everything he did. He resented him for the fact that he could use his obvious talent for what he wanted, to get into fighter class instead of being held back. He was also interested when he found out he had personal connections to the pilot of the upcoming Kerberos mission. He wasn’t really planning on looking into it much, it was none of his business anyways and Iverson had barred him from getting involved with the Kerberos mission, mostly because Lance had more than enough manipulative ability to get himself involved with the mission if he really wanted, and Lance was very much out for Iverson’s blood. It was best, for him at least, if Lance stayed away.

It was winter of his junior year when the Kerberos mission was announced as a failure, the crew lost to space. It was not even close to spring when three things followed the incident, in rapid succession.

One, Keith Kogane flunked out. Well, flunked wasn’t the right word. Lance was well aware of the fact that he was a ticking time bomb. What few classes they had together, anytime anything even remotely close to the Kerberos mission was mentioned, Keith’s anger spiked. His hands clenched into fists, brows knitted together and a muscle in his cheek twitched. It was only a matter before he exploded, and Lance watched with absolute glee as Iverson’s latest comment about Takashi Shirogane ended with a broken nose for the man. Unfortunately, Keith was promptly expelled and Lance never got the chance to thank him for his act of heroism. A true tragedy, but what almost made up for it were the looks Iverson gave him as he began sitting in Keith’s sight, watching his eyes widen in surprise and annoyance every time they slid over him. He preferred Kogane, and that was just fine with Lance. 

Two, Lance got into fighter class. After Keith was expelled, there was an opening and the class was retested. Under a different teacher, Lance got in easily. Finally, he didn’t have to sit through lessons he’d already taught himself, try to deal with teachers who would much rather be somewhere else, and not teaching kids who were more interested in spitballs than the subject matter. He felt he was where he belonged, and nobody had to be any sort of genius to figure out what the grin on Lance’s face meant when he received the news.

Three, Hunk and Lance got a new roommate. A ‘guy’ named Pidge, who Lance saw through easily. Interesting girl, Pidge. She had other places she wanted to be most of the time, if the way she glanced at the clock out of the corner of her eye meant anything. She was also pretty deep into the Kerberos mission, like Keith had been. Lance respected her enough not to pry, but despite how hard she tried to school her face, she was still an open book to Lance.

Then there were other things too, much less pleasant things. In particular, Iverson had decided to amp up his efforts in his mission to make Lance’s life a living hell.

“As long as you’re in fighter class, I think that means you’re ready to take on more responsibility in other places too, McClain,” the man told him, the first time he led him down to a more secure room. Military personnel only, to be specific, but Lance was a special case. In the room, they had half a dozen men lined up. Apparently, they’d been having a bit of trouble with spies recently, the man told him. He was to go in there and sniff out the spy, from the remaining suspects they had. Make it nice and easy for them. Lance was permitted to use whatever methods he saw fit, and so he went in.

Lance of course came through with a bounce in his step, blinding smile on his face. Iverson hated it when he did that. Reminded him of his son, Lance had discovered. Iverson did not get on well with his son. Lance understood why. Still, for now he just smiled and waltzed up to the men, standing at attention.

“Relax, relax,” he told them, poking one soldier in the side. “I have your orders for the moment, so don’t worry about getting in trouble. I’m in charge, lucky enough for all of you,” Lance chirped, waving his hands as he walked around the room.

“Geez, not a whole lot of space in here, is there? Stuffy too. This is not ideal circumstances for an interrogation.” The men appeared confused, and one stiffened. Lance laughed.

“Right, I forgot. Not all of you know why you’re here, though I know someone suspects.” He slipped back over to the one who tensed, humming.

“Now, tell me your name, mister-” he trailed off, the picture of playful fun. The soldier barked his retort.

“Williams, sir.” Lance nodded, pausing for a moment. He stared at the man, before he raised a brow.

“I want a real name, Williams. It would really be in your best interest to comply, here. After all, you of all people should know the military isn’t very lenient towards traitors.” He smiled, patting the man on the shoulder.

“Iverson, I’ve got your man. Come get him.” Lance expected that to be the end of it. In the moment, it wasn’t very real to him. It was almost like a game to the genius, easy as child’s play. It was obvious from the way the spy had held himself, trying just a little too hard to blend in, to look natural. He wasn’t expecting the result. The man looked shell shocked, watching the world fall to pieces around him before his lip suddenly curled in a violent sneer, and he reached for a weapon Lance could suddenly tell he had hidden on him. There was a hard luster gleaming wearily in his jade eyes, and Lance barely had time to duck and dodge the way the butt of the gun arced up to his forehead, only able to tell from the way the man’s eyes flitted to his head and his own intuition.

He dropped, rolling quickly to the side in a tangle of long limbs and awkward joints as the spy lunged for him. He cried out as strong fingers wrapped around his ankle, dragging him back towards him with the gun in his hand. The other soldiers had stepped back, distracted by the man’s raving.

“Don’t move! Don’t move! Take another step and I shoot him,” he growled, yanking Lance against his chest while the boy struggled against the muscular arm trapping him in place.

“Get off!” he hissed, squirming and trying to finagle his hand out from the other hand crushing it in a pins and needles grip. In response, the man pressed the cool front of the gun to Lance’s forehead.

“Who do you work for, huh? Who told you who I was?” Lance glanced up, noting the way the gun shook and the way his eyes darted around. To him, to the door, and to the other soldiers. A bluff. Lance didn’t let on that he knew that.

“Nobody,” he growled, turning suddenly and slamming the heel of his palm into the man’s chin, forcing it up with a loud crack as he stepped on his foot and wrenched himself from his grasp. He pushed the man to the ground, where the other soldiers rushed forward and pinned him. “I figured it out.”

Lance panted, bent with his hands on his knees to watch as Iverson ran into the room and slapped cuffs on the man. The world was still spinning, adrenaline pumping through his system from the encounter. He glanced back over his shoulder at the scene, only to find that the man did not look nearly as ferocious as he had before. Instead, he was forced down to the floor, begging and pleading with Iverson. Lance had found most people did that, when they had no other options.

“You don’t understand! I have a wife, kids, they need me,” he pleaded. “They’re going to be killed, you can’t do this!” Iverson whistled, giving instructions to the other soldiers who looked equally unbothered. Lance felt sick to his stomach.

“Sorry Williams, or whatever your name is.” He planted the toe of his boot in the space just under his ribs, audibly kicking the wind out of the man. “We don’t offer much to traitors.” The man stared up at him desperately, and then to Lance. He lurched forward, big green eyes staring up at him pleadingly while he struggled against the soldiers dragging him back.

“Kid! You’ll help, won’t you? Tell them, tell them I have a family! Make them let go,” he begged. Lance could only stammer uselessly, only now struck with the weight of what he’d done. He managed to get his bearings, not looking away from the spy as he spoke.

“Iverson, Iverson, we can, we can do something, right?” he stuttered out, horrified. This was an actual person, someone who had a life and he’d smiled as he handed him over to Iverson. His fear left a taste like bile in Lance’s mouth, as Iverson waved a hand, dismissing him.

“No can do, cadet. Government doesn’t get involved with family. You’ve been very helpful though.” He placed a hand on another soldier’s shoulder. “Blake, you can take him back to his quarters, right? I wouldn’t want any trouble. Enjoy fighter class, McClain.” Lance didn’t bother fighting back against the man that led him back to his room, nor did he bother mentioning to Blake that he knew he was another spy. The next time Lance was called for interrogation despite his protests, he did not have a spring in his step. As he saw dozens of people, some spies, some for other crimes, fall to their knees in defeat, he couldn’t help but wonder perhaps that if he didn’t have his gift he wouldn’t be such a monster.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Sorry this chapter took so long, it was oddly difficult to write. I should have a solid plot nailed down soon, I have an idea of what it's going to be like but nothing is final. From here on out I think I'll probably just post this fic on my tumblr, and reminders about it being updated on my tumblr for those of you who care. If you're interested in reading anything else I've written, I also recently posted a one shot about immortal!Lance that was nice and angsty. :) Anyways, thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Lance began to retreat into himself the longer he was forced to interrogate, and even looking at the now rare tapes sent to him made him feel faint. He laid away at night, simply thinking of how many people he’d seen collapse, kicking and screaming as they were dragged away for a crime Lance could see written all over their face. The longer he was in fighter class, the better he should’ve done, the worse it got. Iverson began to sabotage the sim, or order him to crash. He told him it was to be sure he didn’t stand out too much, and Lance had given up trying to argue with his horrible logic He knew very well it was only to knock him down a peg, make his life hell. Lance soon became so consumed with trying desperately to keep his grade up despite the way Iverson forced it down, he didn’t pay enough attention to Pidge to see how she was hiding something, or creeping off. Didn’t care enough to look at Iverson’s face, register his nervousness whenever the Kerberos mission was brought up. No, it wasn’t until after a particularly horrible interrogation and being chewed out by Iverson that he decided he couldn’t go any longer without a break, and dragged Hunk along to sneak out. He hadn’t exactly been expecting to follow Pidge, or to find out she suspected the Kerberos mission of being more complicated than the story presented to the public. He really hadn’t expected to see Takashi Shirogane or his adoptive little brother, who was really starting to grate on his nerves.

There they were, rescuing the man Lance had written off as dead, along with the rest of the non-conspiracy theorist world, and he introduced himself.

“Uh, the name’s Lance,” he’d told him, rolling his eyes. They’d gotten along alright, actually made a pretty good team on the rare group project despite Lance’s resentment for the position and opportunities Keith was given. He could immediately tell the mullet was put off by the tone of his voice, and denied it. Incredibly annoying, in Lance’s opinion.

“We were rivals?” he asked, wanting to see if Keith would crack. “You know, Lance and Keith, neck and neck.” The rival thing was a good cover story too. He didn’t need Hunk or Pidge reading too much into why he was so focused on Keith. However, the dark eyed boy merely shrugged, and began walking out with Shiro, shoving his limp form onto Lance for a second to slam his fist into the face of one of the staff trying to get back up. Lance let it go for the time being since they were, naturally, being chased by the Garrison. Still, the annoyance cropped up at Keith’s continued denial was something Lance was far too petty to ignore. So, he tucked the knowledge away for the moment, more focused on their escape. His annoyance spiked the longer he was on that hover, watching Keith fly them to safety while he could only imagine the smug, self satisfied smirk on his face. He was going to wipe it off the jerk’s face if it was the last thing he did, regardless of the spike of happiness he felt every time he visualized Iverson’s broken nose and the swollen, bandaged thing it’d been for weeks after. It wasn’t until later that night that Lance realized that he didn’t have to go back, that he was free of crumpling expressions and the frantic screams of those dragged away because of him. He could begin to try and redeem himself, or so he hoped.

When morning came and Shiro woke up, Lance could read the faint recognition in his eyes as they shook his eyes, but didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t as if they’d never crossed paths before. He’d seen him in the halls of the Garrison, that was probably all. After storming out of Iverson’s office so furiously, he didn’t realize anybody had watched the incident. Instead of pondering it any longer than he had to, he opted for irritating Keith while they went off in search of the energy the mullet head had apparently noticed out in the desert.

Lance would admit, he was wary of the lion. After entering the cave it was in, he felt like he was being watched. However, looking up at it made him cringe. He got the feeling it was very much sentient, and didn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized without being able to return the favor. It made him nervous, to say the least. He’d rather not have to deal with that, thank you very much. Still, he walked up on shaky legs and pressed his hand to the barrier. Being flooded by the images it threw at him was mind boggling, but then again so was flying away in a giant lion of all things. It made him extremely uneasy, the way it kept communicating with him. He couldn’t see a face, and wasn’t used to being forced to just listen to someone’s words, or he supposed in this case, ideas. It freaked him out a little to say the least, and he wished he had a face to put with the strange beast that he took into space.

The brunette got a sense that the lion was aware of his unease, and was doing her best to reassure. Lance tried to be open, but frankly he was more concerned about the way they raced through space, away from home. Away from what was familiar, and all in a creation he did not fully control nor could manipulate like he was used to. Lance was nervous, and from a boy who was incredibly used to having at least some form of control over his surroundings, it wasn’t a familiar sensation.

Aliens were new too.

Upon reaching the castle and seeing the Alteans, Lance felt something in him start winding up, like a toy ready to spring forth. A sort of tension building, however unwittingly. The Alteans didn’t exactly mean any harm, Lance could tell that much, but they were wary in the way that Lance was wary of his lion. Odd, how fast he’d come to accept the lion as his own. They were new and strange and had no idea of what was going on, and the Alteans worried about it. Or at least Lance thought it was worry he detected. Their mannerisms were similar to humans, but there were little differences Lance’s mind had to become adjusted to.

The way Allura scratched at her markings when she grew irritated, or how Coran liked to grow and shrink his fingers just a little when he was bored. That was an interesting trait, to say the least. Despite how increasingly comfortable he got with the team, the tension Lance felt only continued to build, like a rubber band being stretched too taut. There was a couple times he felt like it almost snapped, almost let his frustrations out about his fear and homesickness and how he could tell nobody else had settled in yet either. Even aside from the obvious faces he could read like a book, there was some gut feeling that he couldn’t help noting. Things had yet to fall into place, to make the team feel fully like a team. There was also the matter of Lance’s skills, naturally. He’d decided to hide them.

The choice came easily to him. He didn’t want to be used, forced into anything like he had been before. More importantly, he didn’t want to freak out the team. He in no way wanted them to know that he knew that Pidge was a girl, or that Shiro barely ever slept and secretly thought his pick up lines were funny. He was silent, silent when they tried to form Voltron and he panicked a little because he could feel a very much conscious, living relationship being formed with the other paladins. He wasn’t used to any sort of bond that he couldn’t control in some way or another, and it was terrifying. Still, he smiled and worked his way through it despite his misgivings.

Lance finally snapped upon meeting Nyma.

Even with everything happening torturous training drills and bonding activities, in the attack on the castle (he totally remembered the bonding moment by the way, and revenge tasted sweet), he’d managed to keep some form of his composure. No matter how much he teased Keith he rarely went beyond teasing jabs that didn’t hit too close to home. He didn’t even really lose it with Allura in the beginning like Pidge did before the resulting food fight. He mostly contained the pent up emotion he was feeling, and instead of facing it in one way or another he just pasted another smile on his lips, rearranged his face into a nice picture that suited everyone best. He lasted through everything else, it was the blonde, purple eyed alien that got him.

It was obvious from the beginning that her and Rolo were trouble, so Lance got involved.

He flirted and did his best to please the girl who clearly believed, and to be fair he was an excellent actor, that she had him in the palm of her hand. She didn’t know about when he went back in the castle to help Hunk grab what he needed for repairs that he ran off to grab his bayard. Hunk had his suspicions, and Lance commended him for it later. As for Nyma, Lance was very much aware of the fact that she was manipulating him, and as far as she knew, successfully doing so. He even loaded her up in Blue and took her for a spin. He didn’t mention how he wanted to separate her from her team, or that he saw her tap the button on her bracelet. Her ruse would’ve worked rather well if it had been anybody else, but Lance was not anybody else. The minute they stepped out of Blue and Nyma’s back was turned Lance pulled his gun.

“So, turning the blue lion in for reward. The universe’s only hope, for a bit of money. You don’t think that’s a bit callous?” he asked, keeping his distance as the woman spun to see him. It was kind of entertaining to see how quickly her bubbly facade was torn to pieces. She sneered.

“What makes you think that, and what happened to the bubbly play boy I saw up until about three seconds ago?” Lance shrugged.

“What can I say? You’re easy to see through.” He hoisted his gun, emphasizing his point as he walked back towards Blue.

“Now, you’re going to tell me exactly what you just did with your bracelet, before I leave you here.” Nyma swallowed thickly, looking to the sky.

“Nothing important,” she tried to reassure him. “Setting an alarm! No need to get upset, Lance.” Lance had been keeping his patience up until now, but he began to falter. He fired a shot off, narrowly missing her ear. 

“I don’t like liars, Nyma,” he responded. She reached for her bracelet again, slowly as though he’d miss it. Another shot, singing the hairs on her arm. “None of that. You’ve got ten ticks, before I get in my lion and leave you and your partner to rot.” He’d pointedly turned his comms off for this chat. His team didn’t need to know what was going on. Lance began to back up, and Blue growled at the girl who Lance could see steadily begin to panic.

“It’s a tracker!” she hurried to explain. “Alerts Rolo to where I am. Don’t leave, here, I’ll turn it off!” she offered, slowly raising her wrist. However, a grin spread across her face as the ship appeared overhead. She lifted the bracelet to her mouth, shouting into it while Lance cussed.

“He’s got his gun out! He’s got his gun!” Lance couldn’t hear the response, but he was aware of the rope dropping from the ship for her. His lip curled in disgust. They’d really betray him, the whole universe, for some money? More importantly, if the universe fell to the Galra, he didn’t get to go back home. He was suddenly grateful for the extra military training the Garrison put him through as their prodigy, because he honestly hadn’t got much target practice recently. Without thinking, he fired a series of shots off at the rope. They all hit in rapid succession, slicing the rope through and sending the alien back to the ground. She collapsed in a tangle of blonde limbs and pigtails, while Lance stalked over, pressing the gun to her forehead and grabbing her arm to speak into the bracelet.  
“I swear to god, if you don’t get down here and get your ship the hell away from my lion I am going to dropkick your girlfriend into deep space. I would recommend listening, because I am quickly reaching the end of my rope and I am very, very serious. You’ve got five doboshes, see you then.”

And so Lance waited, for the other liar to show.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to this mess of a story. I'm pretty excited to be writing it. You can check out my tumblr (ambivalentlangst) for more Lance content, or don't. Whatever works. Chapters will be posted both there, and on here! As a warning, the category and rating for this is subject to change. I don't have any exact plans for that, but it is a possibility. Additionally, I am making this plot up from here, but I should have at the very least an ending planned before we get very far. This should be a mini fic, but who knows. I have a tendency to let things get out of hand. Either way, I hope you liked it. As a friendly reminder, comments and kudos are always appreciated as motivation, so if you're feeling up to that it'd be great. Anyways, I'll be back with an update soon and until then, later losers. I'm going shopping.


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